Goldfish Funerals
by Jax Malcolm
Summary: It's not really about the fish.


Note: This may not be much of a fanfiction until one realizes that both of the characters are canon. Naming has been reversed. That is, the canonically unnamed character has been given a name, whereas the character who actually has a name has not.

* * *

Goldenrod City's beaches tended to be infested with people on summer days like that Wednesday, but a native with enough of a sense of whim knew that the best time to go was early in the morning, just as the gray of the minutes just before dawn spread across the sky like water spreading across a dusty sidewalk. The air would hang crisp and cold, still chilled from the night and wet with the remnants (or, possibly, the very beginnings) of fog. Across the white sands, silhouettes of early-morning joggers would pass like phantoms, drifting silently, leaving nothing in their wake except a footprint that washed away in seconds.

Rose and her older brother, however, stood as a different kind of ghost altogether: the kind that simply went completely unnoticed to anyone who wasn't watching. Together, they watched the black waves curl into themselves and rush around their ankles towards the green strip separating the sands of the sands of the beach from the black surface of the roadway. Her hand was in his; she took comfort in the warmth of company as she tried not to think of the box he held in his opposite hand.

The box itself was an ordinary cardboard box that formerly held heads of lettuce, according to the label on its side. Presently, Rose's brother kept it closed and carefully balanced on one shoulder for fear of dropping the precious cargo and thus completely ruining the ritual. For a long moment, they stood motionlessly and wordlessly as their eyes fixed on the western horizon with their backs to the sun's approach in the east. Then, finally, reluctantly, he slipped his hand from hers and held the box with both hands. She let her arm drop to her side as she clenched her teeth.

Her brother stared at the box for a moment with the uncertainty of what to do in that particular situation. His lip curled between his teeth as he hesitated at the sound of his sister's hiccup. Finally, he took a deep breath and began slowly, with the first words that came to mind.

"Dearly beloved," he said. "We have gathered here today to honor the life and death of, um…"

"Pudge," Rose said.

"Right." He nodded. "Pudge the magikarp. He was a good fish, very obedient, energetic, and kind." He paused for a dramatic emphasis. It seemed appropriate. "However, after a long and arduous battle with cancer, he now has gone to the Great Fish Bowl In the Great Beyond."

"He was a good fish," Rose said with a sniffle.

"Yes, he was."

"I loved him."

Her brother nodded. "I know."

"I don't want him to go."

To that, her brother stopped and frowned. His gaze fell to her face, where he spotted the twinkle of small tears running down her cheeks. A sick feeling crawled into his chest, and right then, he suddenly felt dirty for agreeing to go with her. Balancing the box with one arm again, he reached down to squeeze her hand gently.

"He would like to go," he said. "He should go."

She said nothing, opting instead to pull her hand away. With a deep breath and a slow exhale, her brother turned towards the ocean. Carefully, with the box in both hands, he waded out until he was almost waist-deep in water. He lowered his glance to the top of the box and closed his eyes in silent meditation, the last moment to gather his courage. His thumb slipped under one of the flaps of the box's top and pushed upward until the box opened like a flower to reveal the foggy-eyed fish resting in its heart. Slowly, his eyes opened as he lifted his head to select a spot further out to sea where he thought the fish should land.

"Rest in peace, Pudge," he said.

Then, he swung back his arms and pushed forward to pitch the aquatic corpse as far away from his body as he could. It landed with a splash several feet away and immediately took to floating on the surface with one eye fixed on the brightening sky, almost the same way the fish had been found earlier that morning. He watched it bob and drift away for a minute before wading back to his sister, whose eyes were still on the orange spot several feet away.

"Listen," he said, "it's for the best."

He let the box drop to his side and offered his free hand for her to take. Finally tearing her eyes away from the dead magikarp, she looked at it for a brief few seconds before finally pushing past it and throwing her arms around her brother. He blinked as he felt something hot and wet soak through his shirt and dampen his skin. With a sigh, he gently wrapped his free arm around her.

"Why did he have to go?" Rose said. "He was a good fish, and I tried my hardest to take care of him!"

Her brother sighed. "I know you did, and so did Pudge. The thing is, Rose…" He paused for a moment and then tried again. "The truth of the matter is, Rose, that death is just as much a part of life as eating and breathing. You may do everything in your power to prevent it, but sometimes, no matter what you do, something may die. That doesn't mean that one should simply give up. It's actually what gives life a value at all. We all have very short moments on earth, and it's up to us to seize our moment and determine where we belong. Though you only had Pudge for a short while, I'm certain that he was happiest at the end of it because that place where he belonged was with you. In that case, then, Pudge's life was meaningful."

Rose shook her head, rubbing her eyes in her brother's shirt. "But why did he have to die?"

"Pudge was sick," her brother said. "It wasn't caused by anything you did, and there was no way to prevent or treat it." He held her tightly. "The important thing, now, is that he lived a fulfilling life, and now, he is no longer suffering. He's home."

She turned her head until one eye gazed towards the sea, where she could still see a spot of orange in the distance. Her brother's hand drifted up to smooth her hair.

"I know it's difficult," he said, "but we all say goodbye eventually. It's okay, though. It's best to say it and continue on to make your own life meaningful. Pudge would rather you did that than mourn for him forever."

For the second time, Rose shook her head. "I'll miss him."

Her brother smiled. "It's normal to miss someone who's no longer with us, and that's okay. He'll always be in your memory that way. Nonetheless, there is a difference between remembering and mourning, and the difference is that one who merely remembers but finds the strength to continue in life is the one for whom the deceased's life was worth something."

Rose fell silent for a heartbeat before tilting her head upwards to look at her brother's face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if you do nothing but mourn, then what the dead has taught you will go on forgotten," he said slowly. "That is to say, you will only remember that the dead is gone, rather than what the dead has given you. If you remember what the dead was like in life and carry with you that memory, moving on and living according to what lessons they have given to you becomes a simpler matter. In the end, even Pudge's life becomes something of value to you, and you become happier. So, tell me." He gently touched her chin with a finger. "What did Pudge teach you?"

After a sniffle, Rose shrugged. "I don't know."

"Of course you do," he said. "He taught you how to care for other creatures and how to love something, even if it isn't human, didn't he?"

Rose frowned, closing her eyes to blink away tears. "I guess."

Her brother gazed at her sympathetically as he used his thumb to brush away the wetness. "He did. If he didn't, then you wouldn't be crying over him."

"I'm not crying."

He chuckled. "All right. You're not. Now, why don't we go home? We promised Mother we'd be back by ten, didn't we? She's making pancakes."

With a deep breath, Rose pulled away from her brother and rubbed her eyes. "Okay."

At that, she slipped her hand in his again, and together, they turned towards the east. She sniffled slightly and brought her arm to her nose. He, meanwhile, grinned at her.

"Hey," he said, "everything will be okay."

She nodded and forced herself to smile. "I know." Then, turning towards the ocean again, she gave a small wave to the disappearing speck of orange. "Goodbye, Pudge."

Facing the east again, she straightened her back. From the corner of his eye, he watched her with interest, and at that moment, he realized that something he had said must have finally gotten through to her. He knew that her grief she would not forget, but it would not darken her heart. Rather, it would teach her wisdom, just as he had hoped. Or, rather, he hoped right then.

In any case, he knew she would be all right.


End file.
